


Sleep Deprivation

by Zenn



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mal and Evie are too cute, Mal hates therapy, Therapy, They all hate therapy, United States of Auradon (Disney) Is Not Perfect, let's be real, no actual prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 05:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13563600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenn/pseuds/Zenn
Summary: Ever since the adults here in Auradon had found out about the extent of the VK's abuse, they had all been subjected to visit a therapist once a week.Mal had taken it the worst.





	Sleep Deprivation

The slamming of a door woke Evie from the blissful nap she had been taking.

_Beauty rest is a must, child. You'll get bags under your eyes, and no amount of make-up will remedy that._

Evie could still hear her mother's voice sometimes; denigrating, warping, and molding her into perfection. Evie knew, rationally, that her mother wasn't here in Auradon, she knew that she was still on the Isle locked away with the other villains. That's the thing about fear though, it's not rational. And when you grow up on a place like the Isle of the Lost, fear is instilled in you since the moment you leave your mother's womb.

Her mother's voice and thoughts of the Isle are quickly drowned out by Mal's voice, as she begins her weekly rant.

"Stupid, pointless, know-it-all's. Looking down on you from their fabricated thrones, just because they went through college. Thinking they can sit in their desk chairs, all high and mighty, telling other people how to live their lives," Mal vociferates, slamming drawers open and scouring through the contents.

Evie calmly walks over to her own nightstand, silently opening it and gingerly taking out a small piece of fabric.

"Mal," she murmurs, holding up the fabric for her girlfriend to see. The purple-haired girl stops her frantic search of their dorm room, her features relaxing at the sight of the cloth.

"Thanks, E," she whispers, swiftly making her way across the room to take hold of the fabric. Mal instantly starts stroking the soft material in between her fingers minutely, the motion soothing her slightly.

Ever since the adults here in Auradon had found out about the extent of the VK's abuse, they had all been subjected to visit a therapist once a week. Mal had taken it the worst.

Carlos still apologizes to them every week before their appointments, but Mal doesn't blame him--none of them do. It's not like Carlos meant for his shirt to ride up on his chest during tourney, effectively showing off the tangle of scars carved into his chest. But it happened, and the whole team had seen, now the four of them had to deal with the repercussions.

Carlos repeatedly tells them that he finds therapy beneficial for him, being able to talk through his past with someone has a healing effect on him. Evie know better--they all do really, not that they'll say it out loud--Carlos doesn't enjoy going any more than the rest of them, he's just better at hiding it. Ironically, a trait he picked up going through years of systematic abuse from Cruella.

Jay doesn't talk much after a therapy appointment, he avoids the topic altogether, but if he holds Carlos a little tighter after every session no one mentions it. Evie thinks that Jay confides in Carlos, when the two of them are alone in their dorm room, similar to how Mal and Evie confide in each other. She can't blame Jay; some things are better whispered in the dark to your soulmate than said aloud in the daylight.

Evie just deals with therapy the same way her mother taught her to deal with anything, like a lady. She smiles politely, but not too much as to make it appear falsified, and she answers all the doctor's questions. When the doctor pries her for more intimate details or tries to dig deeper into the root of Evie's problems, she expertly switches the topic.

Mal is the most vocal by far about the therapy, making it her personal mission to demean the field of psychology as a whole. She comes out of every meeting with smoke practically pouring out of her ears, and a look of grim determination on her face. Determination to end the regulations that state the VKs need all this counselling and coddling.

Mal had passionately lectured Ben multiple times, until she was red in the face and green in the eyes, about the disadvantages of therapy. Ben kept insisting, much to Mal's discontent, that none of them were required to go to counselling. They knew better though, growing up on the Isle had taught them how to read people, and these adults were radiating fear. Fear of them, fear _for_ them, and fear of how their past could define their future.

Evie had learned in her Psychology class about legacies of abuse, how people who were abused as children have been shown to turn into abusers themselves. The realization that the VKs were physically, mentally, and emotionally abused only served to add to the adult's concern that the kids were going to grow up to be their parents. Fairy Godmother especially seemed to stress the importance of therapy and learning to overcome the past, so you could look to the future.

Mal was just about ready to shove this therapy routine down Fairy Godmother's throat and choke her on it. Evie knew this, because she had said as much to the three of them last week after an especially heated session with her counselor. This week's visit didn't seem to have gone much better.

It had become a routine over the last few months, as soon as Mal got back from her therapy appointment, Evie gave her the cloth and let her talk until she was out of breath. The swatch of fabric was the softest fleece that Evie could find, and Evie herself had embroidered an intertwining 'E' and 'M' onto it.

She had been so excited when she came to Auradon and found the plethora of different materials and colors that she could work with. The first thing she had made was the little square of fabric for Mal, to remind her that she is loved and so that she would have a piece of Evie with her wherever she went.

Mal moved the fabric between her fingers lightning fast, as she worked up to whatever it was she needed to talk about.

"I'm done," she finally announced not looking over at Evie, instead intently focused on the cloth, "I've had enough. This pompous asshole thinks he has the goddamn right, the nerve, to tell me what I need."

Evie was about to respond, but Mal continued after a brief pause for air.

"All that god damned therapist wants to talk about is my sleep schedule," Mal shouts as she starts to pace from one side of the room to the other. Evie swears that one day she's going to wear a hole straight through the carpet; just one more thing for the Fairy Godmother to disapprove of them for.

"Your sleep schedule?" Evie ponders aloud, not expecting a response with Mal's current state.

"Yeah, E, my god damned sleep schedule," Mal fumes, voice steadily rising in volume.

" _How many hours have you been sleeping at night? Why don't we try some tea to help get those numbers up_ ," Mal mimics, her voice lowering an octave to match her therapist's gruff voice. Evie has to admit, she imitates him fairly well.

Stifling a giggle Evie responds, "Why is he so curious about your sleeping habits?"

Mal abruptly stops her pacing, much to Evie's relief, to think about the answer. When she finds it, the pacing resumes and Evie sees a flash of green; Mal must not like the answer.

"He says," she starts, a steely edge to her tone, "that _sleep_ is the root of my problems. That lack of sleep can make us depressed, anxious, and more stressed."

Sleep is an important factor in your mental health, not that Evie was going to voice that to Mal right now, but for the doctor to forgo all the other problems Mal deals with was... weird.

"He doesn't ask you about anything else?" Evie inquires, starting to understand why Mal hates therapy so much; at least Evie's therapist talks about more than just sleep.

"He wanted to talk about my... _social anxiety_ ," Mal says it like it's a made-up word and maybe she still thinks it is. Mal had not been fond of the idea of having social anxiety, but according to the doctors here all four of them had it to some degree.

"That's good Mal," Evie tries to persuade, "talking about your social anxiety can be very helpful."

Mal sends her an unimpressed glance, before fixing her eyes back onto the square of fabric. "Yeah, it would be if he didn't just want to talk about it in the context of my sleep," she huffs, voice barely audible across the room.

"Oh, M, no," Evie murmurs, "really? Your sleep, again? Why is he so hellbent on fixing your sleep?"

Mal glances over at her beautiful blue-haired girlfriend, a sorrowful expression on her face. "It's the only thing he can fix, E." That's the breaking point for Evie.

Typically, Evie will give Mal her space after an appointment, let her rant, and when she's ready Mal will come to her. But as a single tear falls down her girlfriend's cheek, she rushes over to embrace her.

"They're helpless over here, E," she sobs into Evie's chest, finally allowing herself to be weak, "He tries to find ways to help my sleep because he doesn't know how to go about even talking about all the other stuff."

Evie strokes Mal's hair as she guides her over to her bed, slowly sliding them onto it with Mal practically in her lap.

"It's all so pointless. How am I even supposed to share those kinds of intimate details with a complete stranger? They don't know me, they only see what they want to see. And they only try to fix what doesn't scare them. Sleep is easy, good kids have trouble with sleep, so they think they can just fix it. That if they fix my sleep, they can pat themselves on the back, their job is done."

Mal took a deep, shuddering breath and Evie pulled Mal's face away from her chest to wipe the tears away. Mal gave Evie a watery smile before continuing.

"It's like hiring an emotional prostitute," she confesses, "therapists are just overpaid, emotional prostitutes."

Evie can't contain the laugh this time, "Emotional prostitutes!"

This earns Evie a slight smile from the other girl, but her voice is stern when she replies.  
"An _overpaid_ emotional prostitute, E."

"You're not even paying for the therapist-- the emotional prostitute, sorry. The expenses are wholly paid for by the Royal Court," Evie counters, receiving another unimpressed glare from her girlfriend.

"Right, because that makes it so much better," she snarks, fingers playing with the cloth again, "not only do I have an emotional prostitute, but the emotional prostitute is 100% paid for; by men in stuffy suits."

Evie can't wait to share this 'emotional prostitutes' thing with the boys, maybe Jay will finally say something about his sessions, but for now, she has a sad purple-haired girl to cheer up.

"Hey," she murmurs, tilting Mal's chin up so they are eye-to-eye, "I'll be your emotional prostitute whenever you need me, free of charge."

"Evie," Mal shrieks hitting her on the arm, but the tears have ceased, and a smile now graces Mal's lips, so Evie counts it as a win.

"I wasn't trying to be funny, they seriously are like emotional prostitutes," Mal whispers like someone else might overhear.

"I wasn't being funny either, Mal," she says seriously, "Anytime you need me, I am here for you."

Mal gives her a genuine smile before her lips curl into something a little more sinister.

"Free of charge, huh?" she inquires, mischief dancing in her eyes.

"Well," Evie states, "a few kisses could be negotiated." Mal smiles at this, pushing Evie back onto the bed and falling on top of her.

Maybe the adults here were right, maybe therapy was helpful; the adults just gave them the wrong therapists.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a random stand-alone fic and does not coincide with my other Descendants story.
> 
> All comments, questions, and constructive criticism welcome!


End file.
